The Broken Lake (The Pace Series, Book 2)

Home > Young Adult > The Broken Lake (The Pace Series, Book 2) > Page 17
The Broken Lake (The Pace Series, Book 2) Page 17

by Shelena Shorts


  I looked at Wes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” My gaze traveled to the fireplace.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He approached the fireplace as if he knew how to make it work. He lay down and opened the vent at the bottom, turned on the gas, and pressed a red button. Next, he stood up and flipped on the wall switch.

  A fire roared to life. I happily hopped onto the chaise. My body sank into the cushions, and once I settled in, Wes walked over with a contented smile and climbed on top of me. He held off most of his weight with his elbows, but I put my hands around his neck and pulled him all the way down.

  I touched my lips to his in an urgent yet still soft fashion, and fire began in my toes and moved up. This was it. This was why we came here. Whatever was happening in the clouds was of no worry to me at that moment, because there was no other place I’d rather be.

  As if my body was trying to do what my brain was thinking, I wrapped one leg around his waist in an attempt to secure him to me for what could’ve been forever. In response, he let out a deep breath that blew onto my neck and toward my ear. I heard myself sigh as I found his lips again.

  What came next was unexpected. He gently but firmly placed his palm over my forehead and pushed my head into the cushion. “Sophie, Sophie,” he said.

  Unable to move, I released the word “What?” between labored breaths.

  “You know what. You’re attacking me.”

  “What? You’re on top of me,” I pointed out.

  “Well, if you unlock your leg, maybe I can move.” He was holding back a smile.

  “Maybe if you release my forehead, I will.”

  We both laughed and released our intertwined holds on one another.

  “Sorry,” I offered.

  He laughed a little and then turned serious. “Me too, but not for the same reasons you are.” He rolled so he was lying beside me.

  “What are your reasons?”

  “I just want to be with you always, and in every way.”

  I propped myself up on my elbow to face him and made a promise. “You will get what you want.” Confidently, I added, “ I know it. We will make it happen. Everything that we want, and you will not lose track of a single minute.”

  He moved closer, so his head rested against my forearm. “I hope so,” he said in a way that sounded less than optimistic.

  I began running my fingers through his hair, and the gesture made me wonder why I had not done that sooner. I loved his hair. It was the darkest chocolate color with soft, inviting waves that I had never wrapped around my fingers before.

  He was always the one cradling me and playing with my hair, yet here I was, twining the waves perfectly around my fingertips. It was a reversal that caught me by surprise. It was as if he was inviting me in to care for him and make him feel like everything was going to be okay.

  I thought about why this shift took place right before my eyes, and the only conclusion I came to was that it was because we were in my element. He knew nothing about the bitter cold mountains or the angry ice flakes that were to come. The only thing he knew at that moment was that he trusted me during what, I was sure, was an uncomfortable time for him. And, instead of fear, he was showing need. A need to be with me more than anything else. A need that made me feel responsible that nothing bad happened.

  A gentle smile flowed across my face. Even though it was a tall order, it was one that I wanted to fulfill. I kissed his forehead as he had kissed mine so many times, a kiss that spoke the silent words, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I love you, Sophie.” His arm wrapped around me and he buried his face in my chest.

  I realized then, that not only was he mine to love forever, he was mine to care for forever. He needed me as much, if not more, than I needed him, and lying there together made me see that.

  As perfect and indestructible as he was physically, he was vulnerable emotionally. And this was what I was there for. This is what he’d been missing for decades, someone to love him and care for him in a way that made him willing to give up everything for that person. In the way that I did.

  Somehow, the fire was still racing through my veins, even though we had stopped kissing minutes ago. The burning was still there, the passion, the desire, the spark. It was lingering within me, and I felt so alive, so needed, and so wanted.

  “I love you too,” I whispered.

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you too.” I watched as the last wave curled away from my finger, and I leaned down and kissed his cheek tenderly.

  “Again,” he whispered, his eyes closed.

  I kissed him again. “I could say it a thousand times, and it still wouldn’t tell you how much.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  Chapter 17

  THE SNOW GLOBE

  Morning is not my favorite part of the day. I much preferred my sleep; however, with the wall of glass letting the morning light blaze in, I had no choice but to wake up. By myself. I felt all around and there was no one there. Still in the act of prying my eyes open, I sat up, piecing together my whereabouts. The loft was a bright white reflection of the falling snowflakes outside.

  The chalet, Virginia, the snow.

  “Holy crap!” I said in a raspy morning voice.

  It was a beautiful sight, but I had no time to appreciate it. I threw back my covers and hurried to the bathroom to brush my teeth. A quick run-through of the hairbrush and I was done. I skipped down the steps in my flannel pajamas. Jackson and Rich were playing the board game again, and Dawn was lounging on the sofa.

  I followed the sweet scent of cinnamon and bacon into the kitchen where Kerry and Wes were moving among the appliances in a professional manner. He still wore the gray sweatpants and black thermal henley that he had gone to bed in, and she was wearing Sponge Bob flannels. Both of them looked totally at ease, and once I was secure in knowing that Wes wasn’t holed up in a corner, freezing, I cleared my throat. They both turned and smiled.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Kerry said. “You didn’t tell me hottie here could cook.”

  “You better watch it,” I warned. “Rich may not like you hitting on my guy.”

  She puffed air through her lips. “Oh, Rich doesn’t care. I call him much more than that.” Her smile was so devious, I didn’t even want to know.

  Next, my gaze settled on Wes, saying something along the lines of, “How could you let me sleep and just get up without waking me?”

  And his spoke back to me, saying, “I’m a big boy, and you need your rest.”

  We smiled a mutual truce, and Kerry looked at us like she wanted to back away from the silent conversation.

  “Um,” she said, “I better get the eggs started.”

  I moved toward Wes, still a little perturbed that I was the only one left sleeping. He pulled my shirt until I was close enough for him to put his arms around me and give me a squeeze. I gave him a hug in return and allowed my senses to take over.

  “What’s that delicious smell?”

  Speaking from the stove, Kerry answered, “Cinnabons. From the airport. We put them in the oven.”

  Yum, was all I thought.

  “Did you see outside?” Kerry asked.

  “How could I not? It’s everywhere.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still not sticking.”

  I hadn’t noticed before coming downstairs. Looking out our windows, all you could see was millions of large white flakes falling to the ground.

  “Really?” That meant that it wasn’t cold enough for ice, though certainly still way too cold for Wes to function normally, but not cold enough to snow us in. Hopefully, we could still freely make it up and down the mountain.

  Kerry interrupted my thoughts. “Yeah. And Dawn’s bummed. But we can still probably get some good slope time in today.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, spinning myself away from Wes’ arms. His maneuver was swifter than mine, as he allowed me to spin out, only to hug me from behind, his arm a
round my waist in a secure hold. He kissed my ear.

  “Yeah, Kerry. I think we’ll try it,” he said. I turned around. “For a little while,” he amended.

  He was insane, completely, and I was sure he was going to make my job of playing the protector difficult.

  “Whatcha doing?” Dawn said, hopping into the kitchen.

  “We’re talking about hitting the slopes today,” Kerry answered.

  “Awesome!” Her enthusiasm was a bit of a reminder of how fun it really could be if I could only let go of my terrible apprehension.

  “Yeah, awesome,” Wes added.

  I wanted to elbow him in the stomach. “Would you stop messing with me?” I asked.

  “What? I’m serious. I’m stoked.”

  A few more silent words flew between us and Kerry and Dawn cleared their throats in a duet.

  “Good,” Dawn said.

  “Where’s the sugar?” I asked, really needing a rush.

  On cue, the oven beeped and Wes moved over to take out six round mounds of perfection. The buttercream icing was flowing down the sides of each bun. I instantly felt warm and fuzzy.

  Wes smiled. “We ought to get these more often.”

  Rich joined us from the living room. “I’ll take the bacon. Meat is for men. Sugar is for girls.”

  “I’ll take some sugar,” Jackson said, following him in. We all looked at him, trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean. Was he unafraid to show his feminine side, or simply mocking Rich? We decided he was mocking Rich.

  “Did you beat him?” Kerry asked.

  Jaskson smiled, but before he could answer, Rich cut him off. “I let him win.”

  We all started laughing. Jackson’s chest was puffed out while Rich had a vertical crease plastered on his forehead.

  Jackson patted his shoulder. “No worries, bro. We’ll play again later.”

  “No, later we’ll play something we can all play at the same time.”

  Kerry was so motherly all of a sudden. I couldn’t figure out where it came from, and I wondered how often she and Rich came up here to play house together. Whatever the answer was, it was a nice to see her so happy.

  “Okay, everyone,” she continued. “Grab your plates. Feed yourself.”

  Breakfast was great. I had my huge, warm glob of baked dough, dripping with icing, and a glass of milk. Everyone else had eggs, toast, and bacon. Then, for dessert, they picked away at the cinnamon buns. I was a stuffed turkey after I made a happy plate with mine. That was all I needed.

  Afterward, we debated about hitting the slopes. I knew I couldn’t keep them away, so I just went along. Wes was eager to try it, and I had to trust that he would be fine. So we headed upstairs to pile on the layers.

  We had spent many nights together, but never watched each other undress before. It was a tad awkward, so I went into the bathroom to change. When I came out, I caught him down to his boxers. I had seen them before when he was freezing to death and I had to strip him down to his underwear. I had also seen him in his swimming trunks before, but not like this.

  In the other situations, I had done everything possible to keep my eyes off his physique, but this time, I stared. OMG, was all I thought, and then I felt my neck begin to twitch like Kerry’s had at the airport.

  “You okay?” he asked, sliding one leg into a pair of long johns.

  “Um.” I watched the muscles in his arms and chest flex as he pulled the pants up. “No, not really.”

  He laughed, but I was serious.

  Without looking at me, he grabbed his long-sleeved henley and turned around so his back was toward me. I could tell he was still smiling. His effort to shield me from his hotness didn’t work.

  The muscles in his back were just as impressive as the ones in his front. Like the ripped guys at the fight club, Wes’ back also formed a perfect V. And when he reached his arms up to pull his shirt over his head… Every. Single. Muscle. Flexed.

  I decided the only way to end the drool was to close my eyes. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when Wes saved me from Andy, and I was beginning to think it again. Everything was too perfect.

  I wasn’t sure what I had done to deserve such perfection, and then I remembered. That’s right, as Amelia I had saved him from bleeding to death on a London street a hundred years ago. And who says being a good Samaritan doesn’t pay off? Not me. It pays back and then some.

  Three layers of clothing later, Wes was ready to add his warming gear. It was actually pretty neat, and once he had them on, I began wishing I’d taken him up on his offer and bought some for myself. It’s one thing not to be a wimp about the cold when you’re not actually in it, but it’s another thing when Jack Frost actually shakes your hand. But I sucked it up and prepared myself in just a few layers and a nonheated down coat.

  We drove down to where the road split, near the middle of the mountain, and headed over to the snow-covered slopes. Kerry and Rich had their own skis and went off to the lifts. The rest of us rented ours and headed off to the bunny slopes for some lessons. I thought Wes would stand out like a sore thumb, but he actually blended in perfectly. No one on the bunny slopes knew what they were doing, including Dawn and Jackson. All three of them looked like they were walking on glass, and everyone was bundled up like mummies.

  I was having a great time watching them attempt to ski for the first time, and each of them looked so ridiculous that I wasn’t even fixated on Wes’ body temperature. It was the first time I’d seen him look uncoordinated, and it was hilarious. He was bundled up so much that I couldn’t see one centimeter of his skin; and, therefore, I wasn’t always prompted to wonder about his body temperature. He just looked like a warm, regular guy.

  Surprisingly, Dawn and Jackson were the first ones to cave and ask to go back to the house. I hadn’t factored in the fun-in-the-sun couple not being able to handle Jack Frost. They actually saved me from having to sneak Wes out of there when they turned out to be the shameless wimps.

  I called Kerry on her cell to see how much longer they were going to be, and she told me that visibility was getting low on the slopes and they had decided to quit too. So after about forty-five minutes in the bitter cold, we were all headed back to the warm house and Wes’ well-being was not what sparked the return. Today had been a success.

  Back at the house, everyone took off their outer layers in the garage to keep from tracking tons of snow through the kitchen. When Wes started to take off his, I noticed him having a hard time unzipping himself with his gloves on. I offered to do it for him and he didn’t object. That was the first sign that told me he was having difficulty. I quickly unzipped his outer layer and put my hands on his chest. The fleece coat beneath was warm, which helped calm my worry.

  Dawn and Kerry were throwing snow chunks from their shoes at Jackson and Rich and none of them noticed Wes’ weakness. They chased each other into the house, and I took advantage of the privacy.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He put his hand up to his mouth to pull his ski mask down, but his fingers weren’t cooperating. I pulled the hat off for him. His lips were turning blue and he was pale. Not pale like at the pier, but definitely pale.

  “Wes! You promised.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s just get inside.”

  “You are not fine,” I hissed. “You can’t even undress yourself. Why didn’t you say something?” I yanked his heated gloves off and bent down to pull his boots off.

  “Because I’m fine. My limbs are just a little numb.”

  “And your face too?” I snapped. “Ugh.”

  I wrapped his arm around me and walked him into the house. We looked as though we were just having a close moment, but my mission was to get him upstairs ASAP. He was still taking steps as if he was walking on glass, but this time I couldn’t attribute it to being on the slopes.

  Luckily, the rest of the crew had disappeared into their bedrooms, so no one noticed us. Despite the difficulty, I helped him up the steps one by one.
Once we reached the upstairs, I tried to sit him on the bed but he held firm, standing.

  “You need to sit.”

  He shook his head. “No, I need a warm shower.”

  “Right.” I unfolded myself from his arm, slipped quickly into the bathroom, and started the water. When I came out, he was still standing in the same spot.

  I knew he was suffering, yet he managed to appear as if he wasn’t. I didn’t even bother griping about it. I went over and guided him into the bathroom. The shower was running but his clothes were still on.

  “I can take it from here,” he offered.

  I was tempted to leave him alone, because I knew he was trying to release me from the awkwardness, but like before, the necessity of the situation took over—or maybe it was my hundred-year-old nursing instincts. Whatever it was, I wasn’t worried about boy-girl parts and who was seeing what. I just wanted him better.

  “No, I’ll help you.”

  I pulled his shirts over his head, one by one, until he was down to his bare chest. I quickly felt his chest with my good hand and the fingertips of my casted hand, and it wasn’t so bad. It was cool, but not icy.

  It wasn’t until I moved his hands away when he tried to unbutton his own pants that I felt the chill. His hands were cool. I grabbed his wrists and felt all the way up his arms. They were freezing.

  “I thought your coat was heated?”

  “Just the torso part.”

  I shook my head and yanked his pants down. By that point, my hand was pretty much healed. The cast was set to come off the following week, so I didn’t have to be gentle with it anymore, and now was no exception. I used my fingers to grip and tug at his pants legs. Once they were all the way down, he stiffly stepped out of the first layer and then I pulled the long johns off. That’s when I felt his thighs. Freezing cold.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I mumbled half to him and to myself.

 

‹ Prev